


Distractions

by DrHu



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Kissing, One Shot, Reader-Insert, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-13 01:12:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14739282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrHu/pseuds/DrHu
Summary: Private homework session for two? Nothing could go wrong there.





	Distractions

**Author's Note:**

> Something else that's been sitting in my drive for almost 3 years. I think this was the first thing I ever wrote for P5. 
> 
> This fic can also be known as: big time Distracted by the Sexy and I desperately needed an outlet at the time to express my feelings. I laughed really hard when I was reviewing this after all this time.

You're so distracted. 

The two of you are sitting in the living room, legs splayed under the table before you. You're supposed to be studying; you promised him that you would help with math homework. You're not sure why he asked to be honest. You know he’s smart enough to work through most of the material alone, and there are more enjoyable things he could be doing than sitting with you in your home.

You try though. First you walk him through some problems, then you work in silence by yourselves for a bit. He’ll ask you another question and the cycle repeats itself.

You’d get a lot more done if he wasn’t so damn distracting.

The end of your pencil taps against your papers. You look down at your homework, unsurprised to see how little you've finished. You should be halfway done by now; instead you've only got a measly three problems finished. It’s not even helping him that’s eating up your attention. You'll read a problem, try to write something down, and then your mind will inevitably wander back to the bespectacled boy sitting next to you. You hand will move on its own, and when you look back you’ll realize you did everything wrong and have to start over. And the cycle continues. 

It’s not entirely your fault. You blame  _him._ Him and his ridiculous glasses that seem a little too big for his face. His impossibly messy hair that never seems to neaten no matter how many times you've tried to smooth it out. You don't like thinking about his eyes that hide mischief and hidden thrills. And you can’t stand his lips, _those outrageous lips,_ the ones that curl into the smuggest smirk you’ve ever seen. It’s not as though you like any of these things. How could you? They’re preventing you from getting any work done.

You don’t realize that you've been eyeballing him long enough that he notices. Your companion looks away from his work and can’t help but notice you've barely done any of yours.

“Is everything okay?” he asks.

You jump at the sound of his voice, your hands scrambling to orient themselves.

“I’m fine!” you nearly yell.

“Really? Because you haven’t gotten—“

“Oh, I’ve just got a lot on my mind is all… And I’m a bit tired. From…going into the Metaverse and all.” You clear your throat, hoping this will be enough to satisfy him.

It isn’t. His glasses gleam as he scrutinizes you. You try not to look at his eyes and fails miserably. Dark hair and dark eyes. A normal combination that would look plain anywhere else. But you can’t help but get lost in that intelligent gaze, eyes that can scheme and pinpoint weaknesses in the midst of battle. You can’t help but trace the lines of his impossibly long eyelashes and marvel at how _pretty_ he looks.

“Hey.” 

You blink at the sound of his voice. He’s closer now, leaning into you. A shiver runs down your spine at the way he calls out to you. His voice is stronger than his appearance may indicate. Deep and commanding, it’s incredibly difficult to resist when he actually tries. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You're so close—you can almost feel his breath against your skin. You're fixated on his lips again. And suddenly you feel the desire to see him smile. And not just see. You want to _feel_ it. To feel that lopsided grin curl against your skin, to experience the sensation of his teeth grazing across your flesh. 

Your body languidly slides toward him. It isn’t until he exhales sharply do you realize what you're doing. Noticing that your faces are barely inches from each other, you lurch away. 

“Oh, I’m, uh, wow, I’m so sorry about that,” you babble. “Phew, I must be more tired than I thought! Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Should we… Should we get back to work? We should, shouldn’t we?” 

Frantically you pick up your pencil and try to focus on homework again. Your face feels hot and you can’t bear to look at him again, lest he figure you out. How rude of you, to try and take advantage when he was in your home. You won’t be putting him in this position ever again. 

Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel long fingers curling around your chin. You're so surprised you can’t move for several seconds as he tilts your face to him. He studies you for a brief moment, and in that second you see a flash of Joker flicker across his eyes. The next moment, his face descends, pressing his lips to yours. 

You inhale, sharp and brisk. But you don’t even try to back away. Everything in you is boiling and your skin suddenly feels so _alive._ Your hands find their way to his face, pulling him closer. And you can tell he likes what you're doing. His arms wind their way around your waist and you can feel _that stupid smirk_ against your mouth as he presses against you. That smug bastard. He must have known this whole time. 

You don't even care anymore. When Joker finds something he wants, he takes it. And this time he can have it. You move against him, hungrily seeking more purchase in his lips. It’s so strange. You thought he would be more forceful and switch to his other nature. Yet even as you press feverishly against him, he only gives back with the gentlest of motions. He’s clearly enjoying himself, returning your kisses at the same rhythm, but you thought he would try to take more. As a thief, it’s in his disposition to take whatever he can when the opportunity rises. And yet his arms, while anchoring you to him, are not restrictive. Though he smiles, his mouth is tender as it moves with yours.

It occurs to you that instead of taking, he is freely _giving_ instead. 

The thought sends your body into overdrive. Your hands fly from his face into his hair, and you savor the feeling of his messy curls between your fingers. You press your body hard against his and in the process he falls backward, taking both of you down onto the floor. 

The fall knocks the wind out of him for a moment and he grunts. The jolt brings you back to your senses, and your eyes fly open. Breaking the kiss, you sit up, and his arms fall away in the process. You notice with great embarrassment that you're straddling him on the floor. 

“Oops,” you whisper. “Sorry about that…” 

His arms are relaxed, laying on either side of his head. Hair more mussed than usual, glasses slightly askew, he looks more relaxed than anything. He’s still smiling—always the smug bastard, you think to yourself—but you wonder if you can detect just a hint of pink across his cheeks. Your own face is on fire, and you're breathing a little harder than normal. This doesn’t escape him at all, and his grin grows wider. You lightly smack him on the shoulder. 

“Stop looking so smug, you,” you stutter. “Don’t act like this isn’t your fault.” 

“Me? I was just doing my homework. Like I was _supposed_ to,” he quips. 

You pout, more agitated with yourself than him. He shifts from underneath you, and you adjust yourself as he sits up. Your faces are close again, and you feel the urge to kiss him again. But you notice how crooked his glasses are, and you can’t help yourself. 

“Your glasses… Hang on.” 

You adjust them back to the way they were before your little incident. You also take the effort to smooth out his hair, even though you know it won’t do much. 

“There we go… Sorry.” 

The smirk is gone, replaced only by an unusually tender smile as he runs his hand through his hair. “It’s fine,” he says. “It’s probably a good thing we stopped though.”

You fidget. “I’m sorry, I went too far—“

“No, not that. I, uh…” He glances at the work that had been momentarily forgotten in your little tryst. “I have to use the bathroom.” 

“…Oh. Okay.”

You push yourself away from him, but not before he stops you, gently holding your face with both hands. He pulls you back to him and graces your lips with his once more. When he pulls away, he grins. 

“Probably for the best. Maybe you can get some work done while I’m gone,” he chuckles. He extricates himself and slowly ambles to the bathroom, winking before going in.

You take deep breaths as you situate yourself back to normal. You understand what he just did and you can't waste the opportunity, because you’ll just be distracted again later. You stare intensely at your work and your pencil moves feverishly to make good on time.

You sigh. Being alone with a thief of hearts wasn't easy. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


End file.
